


Audio Drama

by phoenixflight



Category: White Collar
Genre: Background Case, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Humor, M/M, Overheard Sex, Public Sex, professional ethics re: consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: Diana was not expecting to spend the evening in the surveillance van listening to Caffrey get a blowjob.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey/Original Male Character(s), Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 182





	Audio Drama

Diana was not expecting to spend the evening in the surveillance van listening to Caffrey get a blowjob. 

The op was meant to be no-contact recon at a party being thrown by some mob affiliated art investors, and it was going smoothly right up until the moment where Caffrey hissed into his watch mic, “Donovan and Lamont just made contact. Made some kind of exchange. I think it might be the flashdrive! I’m going to see if I can get close enough to take a look.” Caffrey sounded gleeful. “I didn’t think they’d be stupid enough to do the drop here.” 

“Wait, Neal,” Peter began, and then remembered that Neal wasn’t wearing an earpiece tonight and huffed out an exasperated breath. 

There was nothing they could do to stop him, short of calling in the SWAT team, which would blow the whole op. Caffrey knew that, of course, so they had to just sit in the van and listen to him accidentally bump into Sean Donovan, the young rising star of a black market crime family, with whom Neal was absolutely not meant to make contact this evening. 

Caffrey almost but not quite spilled his drink on Donovan's custom suit, made a witty comment about the tailoring, and he was off to the races. Everyone in the van exchanged looks as Neal and Donovan bonded over impressionist art, horse racing and the Yankees. 

“Last week he pretended not to know what bunting was,” Jones said to nobody in particular as Caffrey made Donovan howl with laughter at an anecdote about a truly outrageous fielding error.

It was after midnight and the party was thinning. Caffrey should have been out of there an hour ago with a floor plan and a list of names, and Diana should have been on her way home to Christie by now, but instead they were all stuck listening to Caffrey say yes as Donovan asked whether he wanted to see his art nouveau collection.

“What the hell is he playing at?” Peter muttered as he bent over the monitor. Over the microphone they heard Caffrey and Donovan's footsteps and the noise of the rest of the party receding. “He knows better than to let a dangerous suspect get him alone.” 

Jones shrugged, holding a headset to his ear. There were several long moments of silence apart from the rustle of fabric. 

The microphone in the watch was not very sensitive, so as not to overwhelm the recording with background noise or to deafen a listener if something brushed against the wearer's wrist. It was picking up indistinct soft sounds, almost lost in the hiss and crackle of static on the line. Diana, Jones, and Peter all leaned forward frowning. 

Someone made a low, pained whimper. 

“What's-” Peter began and Diana felt her own heart rate tick up. The sound came again, louder, this time ending with a soft “Ah!” sound, recognizably Neal.

Peter jolted, white-faced. “Something's happened we've got to…”

Then, low and close to the microphone, Donovan said, “You want me to...?” and Neal panting “Yeah, yeah,” not sounding that unhappy at all. 

Diana felt her eyebrows trying to fly off her forehead. 

There was more fabric moving and this time the distinct clink of a belt buckle. Neal moaned over the line as the mic picked up a soft, wet sound and Peter made a choking noise. 

“Um,” Jones said, putting down his headset hurriedly. 

“We’ve got to go in after him,” Peter snapped. 

“He hasn’t said the code word,” Diana said. “He knows to signal if he needs a rescue.” 

“He shouldn’t have to signal in a situation like this!” The slick sounds had taken on a distinctly rhythmic quality. Peter was growing redder and redder. “The team leader makes the final call, and it’s reasonable to override prearranged signals in the case of clear and present danger!” 

“Clear and present danger?” Jones echoed.

They all looked at the monitor as Neal panted, “Ah, just like that.” 

Peter’s knuckles were white where he was clenching his headset in one hand and a pen in the other. “It’s not right to expect him to do this in the line of duty.” 

“Nobody asked him to do this,” Diana said. 

“Actually, he was under direct orders not to make contact with Donovan,” Jones added. “Guess he forgot.” 

Diana crossed her arms. “This is what you’re worried about, when this was entirely Caffrey’s prerogative but female agents get honey trap assignments all the time?” 

“It’s never supposed to go this far on an assignment,” Peter said sharply. 

“You think it never does? He can make a professional call about what he’s willing to do.”

Over the mic Neal gasped and Peter’s mouth flattened. “I won’t allow one of my people to be sexually exploited for work.” 

“He got offered a blowjob and he said yes,” Diana said. 

“Donovan could have some kind of weapon on him,” Peter began. 

There was a particularly obscene slurping sound and Neal said, “Oh, yeah.” 

Jones grimaced. “I dunno, boss.” 

There was a brief silence in the van filled with the sighs and groans coming through the feed, and the traffic noise in the street outside. 

“I’m gonna...” Neal gasped, and Peter twitched. His face was beet red, a vein standing out in his forehead. 

Caffrey came dramatically. In the van, everyone avoided looking at one another. Peter was holding a file folder in front of his crotch. Jones had taken off his headphones again. 

“That was great,” Neal sighed. “You want me to...?”

Donovan said yes, of course, 

“Oh god,” Peter said. “We’re not seriously going to sit here and let him…”

“Oh, fuck, your mouth is fucking sweet,” Donovan panted. 

“If we send SWAT in we lose months maybe even years getting back here,” Diana interrupted. “Neal wouldn’t want us to blow the whole thing unless he gives us the signal!” 

“I’d say he’s got the blowing under control,” Jones muttered, and a muscle in Peter’s jaw ticked. 

“Jesus you’re good at that,” Donovan said, and Peter looked like a heart attack in progress. 

It took about five minutes, by Diana’s watch, before Donovan was shouting more praise for Caffrey’s mouth as he came. She treasured her ignorance about blowjobs, but that seemed like a respectably short timeframe. Peter was stone-faced and furious, Jones chagrined. 

There was some post coital small talk, both of them sounding relaxed and satisfied, and then they made plans to meet again the following night at a hotel, while Peter ground his teeth and Jones looked reluctantly impressed. 

A couple of minutes later they had visuals on Caffrey again, strolling down the block all loose limbed and with his neat hair mussed, grinning to himself. He poked his head in the van. "Hey."

"What the hell was that, Caffrey?" Peter exploded, and Neal raised his eyebrows. 

"A diversion. I got the flashdrive." Reaching into his jacket pocket he held up a green micro stick, flipping in between his fingers like a coin. “And we know where he'll be tomorrow at 9pm. Plenty of time to surround the place."

"Well done," Diana said, holding out an evidence bag for the flashdrive, and passing it to Jones who wasn't meeting anyone's eyes. 

Peter puffed up like an angry chicken. "That was completely unnecessary! It's against Bureau regulations and you could have been hurt."

"Aw were you worried about me?" Neal cracked a grin, not quite a genuine one. "Don't bother. It's not like I haven't done it before." 

"That's - you - that's beside the point," Peter spluttered and Neal looked away on the pretext of unbuckling the watch. 

"Let's get going," he said, brisk and mild but suddenly closed off. "I'm beat."

That made Peter slide from angry right into anxious and he watched Caffrey too closely all the way back to the office. It was a silent and uncomfortable ride. 

There was paperwork to do before they could go, and Diana found herself rubbing her eyes repeatedly at her desk. Neal was whistling a little to himself as he filled out his, across the bullpen. 

When she went to drop the forms on Peter's desk, he said, "Will you talk to him?"

"Caffrey? All due respect, no way, boss." It wasn't like Peter to be so unsettled even about an op going bad, and this one hadn't, per se. She left him in his office staring in Neal's direction and rode down to the carpark with Jones. 

Diana was so ready to go home that she made it all the way to her car before realizing her phone was still on her desk. A dull exhaustion headache was throbbing behind her eyes and she seriously considered just leaving it there, but working for the man meant she always needed to be contactable. Heaving a sigh she slammed her car door and trudged back to the elevator. 

The bullpen was dark when she stepped inside, but the light was on in Peter's office and the door was open. In the nighttime silence, she could hear what they were saying from all the way across the room. 

"You can't take me off the case," Neal was saying, "I'm your breakthrough here."

"I can and I will," Peter growled.

"I don't understand what's wrong with it! I got us months ahead on this case, and you usually approve of improvisation."

"I hardly ever approve of your improvisation."

"You like it when I take initiative," Neal argued. Diana picked up her phone and turned back to the door, but didn't leave. "I don't see what's so different about this. It's just another way to get results. Blowjobs are hands down the best way to pick pockets." 

"This! This is why! You're a government employee, sexual activity is not part of your job description!"

"Tell that to the ladies on vice squad. I hadn't pegged you as a prude." 

"That's not what this is about," Peter snapped. 

"Is it because Donovan's a guy, then? I'm surprised at you, Peter. Homophobia isn't a good look on you."

"Fuck, no," Peter exclaimed sounding even more outraged. "It's not - Jesus, it's not that."

"Then what?" Neal yelled, and really it hardly counted as eavesdropping anymore, when they were being that loud. 

"Nothing," Peter gritted out, fierce and grim. "I just. You shouldn't  _ have _ to…"

"I  _ didn't _ have to."

"Oh so you wanted to?"

"I mean, who says no to an easy blow job?" Peter made a noise of inarticulate fury, then Neal said, in the tone of one receiving divine revelation, "You're jealous."

"I'm not," Peter squawked. 

"Peter." Neal's voice dropped into something intimate and soothing and Diana knew she should leave,  _ right now, _ and didn't. "Peter, you should know I would go to my knees for you the instant El said it was okay." 

Through the glass of the office wall, Diana could see Peter gaping. Caffrey had his back to her. 

"I'd never…" he began, in a weak voice.

"I know," Neal said, cutting him off. His tone was still gentle, almost wistful. "I know you'd never do that to her."

"El's not, she wouldn't… it's not that. She and I have talked about… well, anyway," he hurried on, and Diana thought she was almost as curious to hear the end of that thought as Neal must be, "It's not about El, it's that I'd never ask you to do something like that."

Neal stepped closer to Peter. "You're not asking. I'm offering." 

"You… we…" Peter's chest was heaving, and they were speaking softly enough that Diana almost couldn't hear them. " _ Here?" _

"If you insist," Neal laughed and sank gracefully to his knees. 

Peter spluttered and protested, and Diana turned away, hurrying silently toward the door because she really didn't need to witness whatever was coming next, but not before she'd seen Peter, despite his protests, drop his hands gently onto Neal's head.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Find me on tumblr [@stillwaterseas](https://stillwaterseas.tumblr.com/)


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